trying
by Wicked Wonder
Summary: when loving gets to be too much... slash drama It's finished, people!
1. prologue

BMW

"Trying"

Sequel/Series: Not yet

Summary: Summaries suck. Seriously, the summary is "when loving gets to be too much..."

Rating: R for mature themes, slash content and angst (just on principle)

Setting: Summer of between seventh and what would have been eighth season. As usual, I bent the truth for my own wicked purposes. The whole gang is in New Jersey (just read the story!) for the summer.

Note: This is for Craig, who gave me this hella cool idea. He really gave me the whole plot. Love ya, baby! And for those of you keeping track, this story has no continuity with any of my other BMW stories. And... sorry for the delay on my other story arcs. I'm seriously blocking. But I'm trying to work through it. I should have them posted soon.

Feedback: Vixxxen@rocketmail.com

Disclaimer: If they were mine, let's just say that we'd be one rockin' threesome!

=========================================================

Prologue

The gang trooped into the house they had rented. "It's... lived in," Topanga said, trying to put a positive spin on things.

"It's a hellhole," Shawn said bluntly. "My trailer looked better than this."

"Or you could say that," Jack agreed, looking at the beat up furniture. In the living room, there was a couch that might have been white once upon a time, but now was a dirty gray with splotches of different colors. There were two scratched up end tables and a television that looked as if would catch fire if one attempted to turn it on.

"We're not actually going to stay here, right? You all are playing a joke on us, right?" Angela asked, eyes wide with horror.

"Looks like the joke's on us," Cory said grimly.

"Yeah. Next time we won't rent the house from EBAY." Jack kicked the couch and leapt back when the whole thing threatened to fall apart.

"What a way to spend our last summer together for a while," Rachel moaned.

"We'll be fine. We can... cover up the furniture, and with a little sweeping and mopping..."

"Scrubbing," Shawn interrupted.

"Painting," Cory chimed in.

"Spackling," was Angela's contribution.

"Remodeling," Rachel jumped in.

"Um... hell, I think we should burn the whole thing down." Jack kicked one of the end tables and had to reach out and grab it as the leg fell off.

"There's no way you're touching me now." Rachel said, eyeing the stained table.

"Well, we really don't have a choice, do we? I mean about staying here. We did sink our money into this house." Shawn looked glum, but then brightened. "Hey, did anyone see The Money Pit?"

"So not a good analogy," Angela groaned. "Well, let's look at the rest of the house."

They moved in a group into the tiny kitchen, which featured yellowed and peeling paint. The cabinets were empty and were hanging open.

"Because this is so much better than going to Florida. Did anyone listen to my suggestion? No!"

"Bitterness will get you nowhere, Rach." Jack moved to the sink and tried to turn on the tap. A rusty trickle of water came out.

"Okay, this is not good. Weren't the owners supposed to have the utilities turned on for us?"

"Wake up Cory. The owners also said that this was a gorgeous ranch-style house. I'm kinda surprised that there's anything actually in the house." Angela made her way over to the stairs and cautiously began walking up. "Come on, you guys! If something's up here, I don't want to die alone!"

"On that note..." The gang climbed the steps and looked into the bedrooms. They were actually kind of nice, with a double bed in each one with a colorful quilt spread on each bed.

"We call the one next to the bathroom!" Cory said.

"Good choice, honey." Topanga patted her husband's shoulder.

"We'll take the one with the green quilt," Angela said, gesturing to her and Rachel.

"That leaves Jack, Eric and I. Why don't you two share a room and I'll take the last one?" Shawn suggested.

"Nothing doin'. Why do you get a bed to yourself? I think it should be mine," Jack argued.

"Why don't you and Shawn share and Eric gets one by himself," Rachel said helpfully.

"That okay with you?" Jack said, turning to Eric, who had been unusually quiet.

"Whatever."

"Well, now that the sleeping arrangements are settled, let's go and eat!" Cory trooped down the stairs with everyone behind him. 


	2. chapter one

Chapter One

"I am so sorry, Eric!" Rachel said for the thousandth time. She tried to help him into the house, but he waved her off.

"I've got a broken arm, Rach, not a broken leg." Eric opened the door with his left hand and walked into the house unassisted.

"He's probably too afraid to let you touch him after what you did," Jack joked.

Rachel paled. "It was an accident!"

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that." 

---------------------------------------------------Flashback---------------------------------------

The three of them were at Central Park. While Topanga went to interview for an internship, and Cory, Shawn and Angela toured colleges, Jack, Rachel and Eric were attempting to rollerblade.

"It's easy!" Eric zipped past them as he expertly skated on the trail.

"How're you doing that?" Rachel asked in frustration.

"I've been skating since I was a kid. I ice skate too."

"Show-off," Jack groused, as Eric executed a perfect figure eight.

Eric only laughed as he started skating away from them.

"Hey! Wait up!" Rachel picked up speed as she tried to catch up with Eric. The increased speed caused her to go slightly off balance, so as she passed Eric, she grabbed his arm to steady herself. Her weight, added to his, made him falter, making him fall awkwardly onto his elbow. As soon as she heard the crack, Rachel shouted, "I'm sorry!"

-------------------------------------------End Flashback-----------------------------------------

After a quick trip to the emergency room and the pharmacy, Eric was back at the house, watching television. Jack came and sat beside him.

"How's the arm?"

"Good. The doctor gave me some painkillers, so right now, everything's peachy."

"Well, if you need anything, let me know." Jack waited on Eric's response. When none was forthcoming, he sat there and looked at the program that was on the TV.

"Since when do you watch British programs?"

"I dunno. For a while."

Jack got tired of the effort to make conversation with an obviously unwilling Eric, so he stood and went upstairs. He paused at Rachel's door, listening to see if there were any signs of life. Hearing nothing, he knocked softly.

"Come in, Jack."

He stepped into the room. Rachel was on the bed, reading a folder of information. 

"How did you know it was me?" he asked curiously.

"Heard you coming up the stairs. Figured that you were coming to rub the fact that I maimed one of my best friends in my face. Am I right?"

"Nah, would I do a thing like that?" Jack sat on the bed and peeked at the papers that Rachel was scanning. "Whatcha readin'?"

"Nothing important. Well, if you didn't come up here to mess with me, what did you come for?"

"I never said that I wouldn't mess with you." Deftly, he snatched the packet of papers out of her hands and tore off running. Rachel shrieked and began chasing him.

"You idiot! Give me that back!" She moved down the steps as quickly as she could and ran outside. Jack was waiting on her. When she came around the house, he tackled her and began tickling her until she was gasping for breath.

When he finally stopped, Rachel chuckled as she said, "You know, I miss this."

"Yeah, us just clowning around."

"So, why did we give it up?"

Jack stilled. Forcing a light tone, he said, "Oh, something about not being able to make it work."

"Well, let's try again!" Rachel neatly rolled over, so that she sat on top, facing Jack. She grinned at him.

"Are you serious?" Jack wondered, carefully keeping hope out of his voice.

Rachel's smile began to fade. "If you don't want to..."

"No," he said rapidly. "I didn't mean it like that. Let me start over. Rachel, would you like to go out with me? Again?"

Her mega-watt smile answered the question better than words ever could.

***

They waited two days, cautiously testing the waters. After the delay, Rachel told the girls, Jack told Shawn and Cory found out from Topanga. No one, though, thought to tell Eric. It wasn't intentional. Everyone just assumed that someone else had already told him.

One rainy day, Topanga and Angela decided to go shopping, dragging Cory and Shawn along with them. Eric said that the rain was bothering his arm, so he spent the day in his room. Rachel and Jack were on the couch, idly flipping channels.

"What do you want to watch?" Rachel asked, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Well with us only getting local channels, there's not much choice." Jack quickly snatched the remote out of her hands. Before she could protest, Jack said in a low voice, "Why don't we make our own fun?"

"You're a genius!" Rachel stretched out on the couch. "Well, have your wicked way with me."

Laughing, Jack quickly stretched out next to her. As they slowly, then more passionately, kissed, Jack felt a little divided. While he was glad (very glad) that he and Rachel were back together, he couldn't help but feel that something was... a little off.

He opened his eyes, about to break the kiss to take in some air, when he found himself staring at the very surprised and hurt face of Eric. When Eric noticed Jack looking at him, he turned and left without a word. Jack didn't realize that he was still staring at the empty doorway until Rachel pulled away slightly. "What's wrong?"

"N... nothing," he said, his mind still working furiously. "Now, where were we?"

***

"Where's Eric?"

The innocent question from Cory caught them all off guard. Everyone was supposed to be getting ready for dinner, and they tried to think back to when they had last seen Eric.

"Um... he was here when we left, right?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, he was. He had asked me to buy him some batteries." Topanga looked mildly concerned.

"I saw him around 2," Jack volunteered. "He didn't say he was going anywhere..." He remembered the look on Eric's face before he ran out of the room earlier and shuddered inwardly.

"Maybe he's just out, exploring the town." Shawn said. "He's probably on his way back right now." 

"Well, it's starting to get dark outside. If he's not back by midnight, we should do something." Rachel tried to look decisive, but instead looked scared.

"And what will we do at midnight?" Cory asked.

"We'll decide then." Jack said. "Why don't we go ahead and eat?"

***

After dinner, Topanga and Cory called it a night, telling everyone else to let them know when Eric returned. Shawn and Angela went to see a movie, promising to keep an eye out for him. Jack paced nervously in the living room while Rachel tried to watch a movie. 

"Sit down! Why are you so upset?" she asked.

"Something's wrong. I can feel it," Jack said seriously. "Look, there's something I didn't tell you," he added.

"What?"

"This afternoon, when we were on the couch... Eric saw us."

"Okay... I'm not getting why that was a bad thing." 

"I don't think he knew. About us."

"Oh. But... how could he not know?" Rachel turned off the television and said softly, "Do you think he was upset?"

"I know he was upset. Dammit, I should have gotten up and talked to him. When he gets back, I'll have a chat with him."

"Well, he has been kinda distant this summer. It's my fault too; he is one of my best friends after all."

Jack sat on the couch next to Rachel, not saying anything. Then Jack leapt up. "I can't just sit here, doing nothing. I'm gonna go look for him."

"Do you want me to come?"

"Why don't you stay here in case he shows up?" Jack suggested. "And tell him I'm gonna kick his ass for making me worry." He tried to smile, but it came out a grimace. 

He headed into the sultry night, wondering where exactly Eric would be at in a strange town at almost 11pm. He wasn't the type to be in a bar, and besides, Eric couldn't drive because of his arm. Jack passed a school with a playground, which he checked thoroughly, and a café, which was closed. 

He was about to turn around and go the other way when he spotted a small hospital. Feeling the pit in his stomach deepen, he decided to check, if only to reassure himself that Eric wasn't there. He walked into the well-lit building, eyeing the people in the waiting room cautiously. He walked up to the desk, swallowing nervously.

"Um, do you have a patient by the name of Eric Matthews?" he asked, hoping that the lady behind the desk would quickly tell him no.

"Hold on, I'll check." She quickly typed something into her computer, and then said, "He's in room 24. I'll get someone to take you back there."


	3. chapter two

Chapter 2

In shock of hearing his suspicions confirmed, Jack followed the patient visitor rep back to the ER. "We were waiting for someone to show up. Your..."

"Friend." Jack supplied.

"Friend was admitted several hours ago. We need you to sign some forms for us. We tried to inform the next-of-kin, but there isn't an answer at their phone number."

"If I can ask, who does he have down for next of kin?"

"A," the rep consulted his papers, "Cory Matthews. I take it you know him?"

"He's here. I mean, in this city. We're on vacation, so if Eric had Cory's apartment number, then there wouldn't be an answer. Where are the papers I need to sign?"

"Right here. These are consent to treatment forms, and this one is a release for surgery."

"Surgery?" Jack echoed.

"Yes. Mr Matthews has significant brain swelling, so the doctors need to operate in order to relieve the pressure."

"Swelling? I don't... what exactly happened?"

"Apparently, he congested some Vicodin with some alcohol. The ingredients in the Vicodin make it highly dangerous to mix it with any form of liquor."

Jack shut his eyes. "How did he get here?"

"He came in, saying that he didn't feel well. We admitted him and his condition deteriorated."

The rep got the papers and Jack quickly signed. "Can I see him?" he asked.

"For a moment. He's going into surgery right away." The rep took him back to a small curtained room. "We'll take you to the waiting room when he goes to the OR."

Jack stepped into the room. Eric was lying on the bed, looking for all intents and purposes like he was sleeping. A small tube was connected to his nose.

"Why does he have that?"

"Vicodin, in large doses, can affect your breathing."

Jack stared in disbelief at his best friend. He seemed almost peaceful lying there, although his skin was paler than Jack had ever seen it. His right arm, the one that was broken, lay across his chest as if he was warding off a blow.

"He's not comfortable," Jack whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Jack said. 

He wanted nothing more than for Eric to wake up and yell, "Fooled you!" Sure, Jack would be pissed, but it would be so much better than the reality of watching Eric take even breaths, never moving otherwise.

He stayed in Eric's room until they came and told Jack that they were moving him to the OR. He was escorted back out to the waiting room, where he went to a payphone and tried to dial the house. It took him three attempts before he could get his fingers to coordinate enough to punch the right numbers. Rachel answered.

"Hello?"

"Rach, it's me."

"Jack? Where are you?"

He covered the receiver and asked a passing orderly, "Excuse me, what's the name of this place?"

"Santa Paulo's."

He turned his attention back to the phone. "Santa Paulo's. It's a hospital, the one we went to before..."

Rachel drew in breath sharply. "Is... is Eric there?"

"Yeah. It's... it's pretty bad. He's about to go into surgery. You... can you tell Cory?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that. We'll be right there."

"See you soon." Jack hung up and sat down in the waiting room. He tried reading a magazine, but his thoughts were centred on Eric. He looked up as Rachel, Cory and Topanga came into the room. When they spotted him, they came running.

"What's happening?" Cory asked.

Jack explained tensely, ending with, "He's in surgery now."

"I need to call Mom and Dad." Cory went over to the bank of pay phones and Topanga followed.

Rachel came over to Jack and he automatically put his arms around her. The two of them didn't say anything, they just held on to each other, drawing comfort. 

Shawn and Angela came in soon after, and they all sat there quietly, not wanting to talk about the reason they were there. Jack looked at his friends and family, taking in Cory's stunned expression, Shawn's worried one, and the tears of the girls.

The patient rep came up to the group. "Are you the family of Eric Matthews?"

"Yes," they answered together.

"Would you follow me?" They got up en masse and went into a private room. Once they were all in there and seated, the rep cleared his throat and began. "Mr Matthews is out of surgery now. At the moment, he is in the ICU. There was extensive swelling on the brain. I'm afraid we won't know the extent of the damage, if there is any, until he wakes up."

"When can we see him?" Cory and Jack asked together.

"We can allow you to see him for five minutes each, two people at a time. We ask that you don't make a lot of noise. There are a lot of ill people here who are disturbed very easily. Who would like to go first?"

"Cory, you should go," Shawn stated.

Everyone agreed on that, so Cory and Topanga went first, followed by Shawn and Angela. When it was Jack and Rachel's turn, she gripped his hand so hard that Jack thought there might be imprints left on his skin.

Eric was lying on another hospital bed. His head was bandaged, and he was still on the ventilator. His skin color was worse than before. Rachel immediately started sobbing when she saw him, and Jack almost wanted to shut his eyes until he woke up from this nightmare.

After their five minutes were up, they went back to the waiting room to talk to their friends. 

"We're heading home. We called Mom and Dad, but the machine answered, so we need to keep trying," Cory said. His eyes were slightly puffy, and he looked like death warmed over.

"We're going to head off with them. There's no sense in staying here if we can't see him," Shawn added.

"Well, I'm staying," Jack declared, surprising himself as he spoke the words. Everyone looked surprised, but didn't try to talk him out of it. 

"Well, call if you need anything," Rachel said, before walking out with her friends.

Jack turned and went up to the ICU nurses' station. "Do you know when I could visit Eric Matthews again?"

"You can visit every top of the hour for five minutes," the nurse informed him. "Will you be staying here?"

"Yes."

"Hold on." She got up from the desk and went into a little room. She came out holding a blanket and pillow. "The waiting room down the hall is dark. A lot of the patients here have family from out of town, and their family members can't afford hotels. Just go in there and make yourself comfortable. There's an announcement when visiting is allowed."

"Thank you," Jack said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

He went into the room she had pointed to. The room was indeed dimly lit, and people were asleep all around him. He found a big recliner and curled up in it. The exhausting events of the day caught up with him, and he was soon asleep. Jack started to wake when he heard general movement around him. As the cobwebs cleared, he realized that it was time to see Eric. He went into the room, noting that Eric's color was starting to improve. 

"Hey buddy," Jack said a little awkwardly, "I'm right down the hall. So... when you wake up, I'll be here." He touched Eric's hand briefly and left the room. The whole night passed the same way. Despite the darkened room, Jack couldn't really sleep because of all the people and the hourly interruptions. Morning was there before he knew it, and with it came his friends.

"Any change?" Shawn asked.

"No. His color's better, though. And he seems to be resting more peacefully."

"Well, do you want to run home and grab something to eat? We'll stay here," Topanga offered.

"A shower sounds like a good idea," Jack admitted. "I'll be right back, okay? And call if..."

"We will! Now go!" Rachel pushed him gently out the door.

Jack walked out of the hospital, squinting a little at the sun. The walk home didn't take long, and he was looking forward to washing the hospital smell off of his skin. He went up to the room that he and Shawn were sharing, and grabbed his shower kit. As he opened it, a single piece of paper fluttered out. He recognized Eric's messy scrawl. Intrigued, he started reading.

_"Dear Jack,_

_I really don't know what to say. I mean, obviously if you're reading this, I'm not there. Okay, I'm beating around the bush here. Have you ever had something inside of you for so long that it hurts to breathe? And all you do is think about that pain? That's the way I've felt for a long time now. I know you don't know what I'm talking about. I promise that I'll get to the point soon. Anyway, even though we're best friends, you don't know me at all. That's my fault. I realized that today when I saw you with Rachel. I can't even describe how badly that hurt. If someone had come along and stabbed me, it couldn't have hurt anymore. That's my fault too. I let myself have a little hope, that just maybe, you might see that I loved you. But I realized today that that's never going to happen. I'm tired of trying, Jack. Maybe there was another way, but I can't see it right now. Tell Cory that all of my stuff is his, except for my rubber duckie. That's Josh's. Tell everyone else how much I treasured them, and that I never meant to hurt them, but I hurt too much to stay and tell them myself. I've gotta go now. Just staying in this house makes the pain worse. Don't be mad, because I can't stand the thought of you being mad at me._

_Love always,_

_Eric"_

Thanks for your patience and kind reviews. Now, read on!


	4. chapter three

Chapter 3

Jack looked at the letter in his hand in disbelief. Although he had read it through several times, the words still didn't have any meaning to him. Figuring that he was just too tired to think, he set the letter on the bed and went into the bathroom. Stripping quickly, he got into the shower, hoping that it would revitalize him. He started methodically scrubbing, his mind wandering, until the letter popped into his head. Finally the words made sense, and their meaning caused Jack to start shaking until he almost fell on the shower stall floor.

_"Even though we're best friends, you don't know me at all. _

_You might see that I loved you._

_I'm tired of trying, Jack._

_I hurt too much..."_

Jack sank to the floor as he started sobbing. How could he not have noticed that his best friend was in so much pain? As he sat there, he thought about how Eric had seemed so withdrawn the whole summer, and how Jack hadn't done anything to help. Hadn't asked him what was wrong, hadn't even told him when he started going back out with Rachel. Jack had done nothing but ignore one of the closest people to him in the whole world, and the reality was that his ignorance might cost him the life of that person.

After the crying fit left him, he rinsed off and got out of the shower. Moving quickly, he got dressed and put his things away in the bedroom. Seeing the letter next to the bed, he reached down, scooped it up and put it in his wallet. He grabbed a set of keys and headed back to the hospital.

His friends were still waiting in the ICU. All of them were in various stages of sleep, a testimony to how their night was. Jack sat down next to them and tried to go to sleep himself, but every time he closed his eyes, the contents of the letter came crashing back into his head with a vengeance. Giving up on sleep for the moment, he selected a year old 'National Enquirer' and thumbed through it, not really paying attention.

Shawn stirred and looked over at his brother. "Hey," he greeted Jack tiredly.

"Hey," Jack replied softly. "Any news?"

"Yeah. They took him off of the ventilator, so he's breathing on his own. But he still hasn't woken up. As this point, the doctors don't know if it's from the stress of the surgery or if it's something else. They're running some tests to find out."

Topanga, who had been resting her head on Cory's shoulder, straightened up and yawned. "Hi Jack, Shawn."

"Hello," they replied together.

Topanga glanced over at her sleeping husband. "He was up all night, trying to reach his parents. I think they said something to us about being out of town."

"How could this happen?" Shawn wondered aloud. "I mean, this is so unbelievable."

"I know what you mean. Jack, the doctors wanted to talk to you. They were trying to find out..." Topanga stopped and wiped tears out of her eyes. "They want to know if this wasn't an accident. But surely Eric would never do anything like that..."

Jack was silent. He assumed that everyone would know that Eric's injury was self-inflicted. But he found himself saying, "No, he wouldn't. I'll talk to them, okay?"

Since this was Jack's fault, he figured, he would carry the burden of knowing exactly what happened... alone.

Time passed. Mr and Mrs Matthews were finally contacted. They flew Eric back to County General in Philadelphia, to have him closer to home, to have him closer to where he belonged. As weeks turned into months, and Eric still showed no sign of coming out of the coma, he was moved to a facility for long-term care. The doctors still didn't know why he was under, and held out little to no hope of him emerging from the coma.

Slowly, everyone started returning to normal life again. Angela flew to Europe to be with her father. Cory, Topanga, and Shawn moved to New York. None of them mentioned the fact that Eric was supposed to be with them, but they all thought about it. 

Rachel went ahead and joined the Peace Corps. Jack had pleaded with her not to go, but she had stated bluntly, "You're paying more attention to someone who might never talk, walk, do anything again... and yes, I know that he's your best friend, but we're the ones who are supposed to be in a relationship, remember? I can't play second fiddle, Jack. I just can't." And so she had walked away, leaving Jack by himself. 

And that's what he was. He was in a small one-bedroom apartment in Philadelphia, alone. He was working at a local news station as a glorified gofer. Noting earth shattering, but it paid the bills. Every day after work, he would go to the nursing home where Eric was and sit with him. Some times he would tell Eric about things that happened in the course of his day. Some times he told stories about things they had done while they were in college. Some times Jack was so tired that he just would come in the room and sleep.

One day, after many months of just talking, Jack tried something different. He had seen a special on television about coma patients being able to sense touch. He came into the room and gave Eric a rubber duckie. "Remember how you loved your ducks? I brought you this to keep you company." He touched the duck to Eric's face. "When I come back, I'll bring something else." 

He lightly touched Eric's hand, noting how it felt like he was about to get up any minute.

As he sat down, prepared to talk to Eric as usual, a nurse came into the room. 

"What just happened in here?" she demanded.

"Nothing! I just came in here, and I gave him a duck..." Jack babbled.

"His vital signs just shot up. Whatever you just did, do it again. He could come out of the coma!" Heartened, Jack went back to Eric's bedside and touched Eric's hand again. 

"Hey, buddy, it's time to come back and join the land of the living." A low moan emitted from the bed. The nurse ran out of the room, calling for the doctor.

After that, things happened quickly. Mr and Mrs Matthews were called and arrived just in time to see Eric open his eyes. As he began to show signs of recognizing people and things around him, Cory and Topanga, along with Shawn, got back. Everyone was rejoicing. Rachel even sent a letter saying how much she missed everyone.

There were some side affects to Eric's long-term ordeal. He had some right-side weakness, due to the surgery. And he didn't remember the month that the gang had spent in New Jersey. The last thing he remembered was the graduation from college.

"Don't worry about it. The doctor said that it could come back," Jack suggested helpfully.

"I just hate that there's a period of my life that I'll never get back," Eric said. At the moment, they were in Jack's apartment, where Eric was staying temporarily. "But that's the last time that we were all together, and you won't even tell me about it!"

"The doctor said that it could be detrimental. He thinks that you're blocking the memory on purpose."

"I know. I was there, remember?" Eric sighed and started walking around the small living room. Jack watched him carefully, feeling his heart twist with every little hitch in Eric's step.

"Well, why don't we do something? Maybe run up to the house we stayed at? Maybe looking at the house will help jog your memory."

"Anything's better than just sitting around," Eric mused. He started for the door, with Jack close behind him.

The car ride was different than the ones they usually took. Before the accident, Eric would fiddle with the radio, sing along badly, ask Jack random questions, and generally make the time in the car zoom by. Today he just stared out of the window. The few attempts that Jack made to hold a conversation were rebuffed. 

After around three hours, Jack pulled up in front of the house. There were cars in front of it; Jack assumed that the owners were back from wherever they'd been. 

"Um, this is it. The downstairs was really decrepit, but our bedrooms were nice. We didn't stay here a lot, though, we went to New York, which is where we spent most of our time, just hanging out."

Eric unconsciously rubbed his right arm. "Is this where I broke my arm?"

"No, we were at Central Park, rollerblading, and Rachel bumped into you."

"Why don't I remember any of that?" Eric asked softly. Jack was about to answer when he realized that Eric was just voicing his thoughts.

"Well, I guess I'm ready to go. Sorry this didn't help." Eric looked mildly disappointed.

"That's okay. It was a long shot, anyway. You hungry? There's this place that serves the best hot dogs. You really liked them when we were here."

"Okay." Eric resumed his gazing out the window. 

After they got their food, Jack hit the road again. This time, he turned on the radio. A familiar song came blasting out. "Open your heart to me, baby. I hold the lock, you hold the key."

"I like this song," Jack commented. "But did you see the video? Weirdness."

"Was that the one where she was like in a peep show?" Eric asked, turning to face Jack.

"Yeah. And then she goes off dancing with the boy at the end."

"But aren't all of her videos... different? I mean, you don't turn on one of her videos expecting the same old, same old."

"Remember 'Justify My Love'?" Jack laughed at the memory. "Someone brought that video to school and we all watched it. Our teacher was so mad when she realized what it was!"

"Remember the video where the person robs someone, gets drunk, and does all this stuff? And then at the end, you find out that it's a girl?"

"Yeah. That was a cool video, though."

"So, what's your favourite video?"

"Old ones. 'Video Killed the Radio Star', 'Money for Nothing', 'Pop Music', all those ones that used to be on when I came home from school."

"Aren't those a little older than you?"

"Yeah, they are. But still good ones."

Jack was suddenly struck by the thought that this was the longest conversation that he and Eric had had since he had woken up. Not wanting to end it, he asked Eric, "So, what's your favourite?"

"All the gangsta rap in the early 90's. Their videos were so bad, they were good. And the metal bands. Especially the power ballads."

"Power ballads! I had forgotten about those. I used to love the real sad ones."

"What about all of the pop singers? Tiffany and Debbie Gibson and all of those."

"Liked them too, but I think they weren't geared to me."

"What was your first clue? Electric Youth?"

"Evil, evil." Eric laughed aloud. "Seriously, I used to have a crush on Tiffany. All that red hair."

"Remind me to grab some dye when we get home," Jack said before he could stop himself. Hearing himself say that, he mentally cursed. 'Way to go, Hunter. Make him close back up.'

Instead of being upset, Eric shot him a strange look and continued, "But I thought Debbie was too goody-goody."

"Based on what? She didn't seem to have any discernable personality as far as I could see."

Eric shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it was the hair."

Jack started laughing. "You are a nut!"

They pulled up in front of Jack's apartment complex. "You know what? I missed this," Eric mused.

Jack was struck by a sense of deja vu. "Yeah, us just fooling around."

Eric flashed him a smile. "Well, I feel a lot better. We should go on pointless road trips more often."

"Definitely. Look, I have to go pick something from the store. Will you be all right by yourself?"

"Sure thing. Could you get me some batteries?"

"Okay. See you in a few." Jack watched as Eric slowly walked into the apartment building. Once he was inside, Jack peeled off and thought hard as he drove.

A fact he was trying to avoid was now staring him in the face. When Eric was in the coma, Jack had realized how much he cared for him. When Eric had woken up with no memory of the letter that he left Jack, he realized exactly what he was feeling for Eric.

"I love him," he whispered, even though there was no one in the car to hear him. "I love him and can't tell him." He thought about how Eric had said in the letter that love was like a pain inside. It was ironic that Jack was now experiencing the exact same pain.

He went to the store and got the batteries for Eric, and then drove back to the apartment. When he entered the room, he noted the silence. He found Eric lying down in the bedroom. He appeared to be having a nightmare.

"No... no, no, no," he moaned softly.

Jack knelt on the bed and started shaking Eric. "Wake up, wake up!"

"It hurts..." Eric sat up, panting and sweating. "Jack, what are you doing here?"

"You were dreaming, and I was trying to wake you up," he explained. "Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"

"Um, no," Eric started. "Wait. I was dreaming about our vacation. I remembered seeing the inside of the house. And breaking my arm. And... seeing you. And Rachel."

"I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about that," Jack said. "You're my best friend..."

"Jack," Eric interrupted. "I... I know about the letter."

"You do?" Jack was at a loss for words.

"Yeah. I didn't really mean to go through with it," Eric said rapidly. "I just felt so low. Once I realized what I'd done, I went back to the hospital that I had got my arm set and told them that I didn't feel well. And... that's all I remember."

"I... I still have it. The letter." Jack pulled out his wallet and showed him the neatly folded paper. "I was really scared, Eric. I thought I was going to lose you." Sudden tears sprang into his eyes. "You are my best friend. It took almost losing you to show me how much you mean to me." He tore his eyes off of the bedspread that he had been staring at and looked into Eric's eyes. "When you were under all those months, all I could think about was how much I wanted you to wake up so that I could tell you what you mean to me."

"What are you saying?" Eric whispered.

"Eric... I love you. Have for a long time now."

Eric shook his head in denial. "No, you can't. You love Rachel."

"Rachel and I broke up a long time ago. Even she noticed that she was second in my heart."

"Am I dreaming?" Eric sounded like a little boy.

"No, you're not." Jack smiled as he touched Eric's hand softly. "Will you believe me?"

"I'm trying..."

And they both knew that they would try together.

END

(Thanks again Craig! You're the best!)


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